


Who Knows

by havuhadanosejob, Traeger



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/F, Harassment, Swearing, Trope Subversion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2019-05-24 15:40:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14957405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/havuhadanosejob/pseuds/havuhadanosejob, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Traeger/pseuds/Traeger
Summary: "He remembers the first time he sees her, the hiss and clouds of steam billowing behind her as her smile flashes, eyes bright.""She remembers first meeting him, and how he surprised her - his tall and serious opposing Bolin’s stocky and cheerful; those careful, watching eyes only adding to their dissimilarity."Not your usual coffee shop AU.





	1. Mako

He remembers the first time he sees her, the hiss and clouds of steam billowing behind her as her smile flashes, eyes bright. He takes a deep breath, inhaling the earthy, rich scent of freshly-ground coffee.  Even with his eyes closed, he sees her flawless skin, that wonderful shade of cocoa. And her body, that even the shapeless uniform could not completely conceal. He almost forgets to breathe.

“Mako!” Bolin waves enthusiastically from behind the counter, reminding him of a loyal puppy. He won’t turn down an opportune excuse to meet them.

“Korra, Mako. Mako, Korra. Glad you finally made it.”

_Korra._

_It suits her._

Korra’s grin widens when he reaches her, her smile illuminating the room as much as the sunshine streaming through the long-paned windows. Her eyes are so blue, shining just so, in contrast to her dark face, as the sun constricts her pupils. _Stop it_.

“Bolin’s been raving about you.” There is genuine pleasure in her voice, as she drapes her arm around Bo’s shoulders.

Mako would almost think she was making fun of him, if he didn’t know Bolin’s propensity to exaggerate. “Everything he says is _absolutely_ true,” he deadpans.

That makes her laugh, and _oh, okay, wow_. The laugh is contagious. He definitely wants to make her laugh that way again.

“Don’t worry, he only sings your praises,” she says conspiratorially behind her hand.

“I hope I don’t disappoint.” He manages to stifle a chuckle but not the smile that creeps up.

“If you’re half of what Bolin claims, I’m sure you won’t. He’s been dying for you to finally stop by.” He watches her hand stop short of reaching for his arm.

_Is she flirting?_

“Well, you know, I’ve been really busy with the academy – I’m a police officer in training. But I really wanted to meet you all.”

“So what can I get you today?” Her grin never leaves her face, it seems.

This is not his kind of place at all, and he hesitates, feeling dwarfed by the tyranny of choice of artisanal beverages with names that do not reflect content. He glances once towards Bolin but he is already out of sight as he ducks back behind the counter.

“Just a black coffee. Double espresso.” It’s his usual order, mostly because he knows nothing of coffee or its subtleties; as long as it is cheap and the caffeine does its trick.

“Come on. Pick something more imaginative.”

Before he can reply, Korra adds with a twinkle in her eyes that he shouldn’t trust, “How about I make the best coffee you ever tasted?”

He finds himself holding his breath again at the sight as she pours the steaming milk, flicking her wrist minutely this way and that; the way her tongue sticks out slightly at the corner of her lips in concentration as she creates a perfect rosetta of a leaf.

_It’s the best coffee he’s ever had._

His break passes all too quickly, and his attention remains fixed on Korra – the luxurious hair that keeps falling out of her small ponytail, the energy simmering beneath her poised grace, the looks she keeps sending him – as he only half-listens to his brother going into the details of running the shop. _Far too much detail, frankly._ Glancing at his watch, he finally gets up reluctantly.

“See you around Mako.” She flashes that easy grin again.

_Oh yeah, she is definitely flirting._

He pours the change she gave him back in the tip jar.

 

* * *

Korra, he learns quickly, works afternoons.

“Hey Mako. You looking for Bolin?”

“Um, yeah. Yes, of course. But I’ll get coffee too.”

She frowns. “Didn’t you know he opened today?”

“Oh, well. Must have slipped my mind. Busy day at the academy,” he explains, leaning on the counter. “But at least the current staffing is much more charming.”

Korra’s smile lights up her face, even as she pretends demureness. “Don’t let Bolin know that, I think he has a crush on Opal.”

Mako usually prefers honesty to coyness, but for her, he chuckles. “I wasn’t talking about Opal.”

“You’re just saying that because I make amazing coffee.”

But he can humor her for the sake of the game, “I can’t argue with that.”

_Okay, so maybe - just maybe - he’s not just here for Bolin anymore._

 

* * *

It becomes hard to focus during morning lectures, as he finds his mind constantly returning to a certain bronze-skinned woman. His lunch breaks, which used to be nothing more than short reprieves to stretch his legs, are becoming more enjoyable, and more important, than he anticipated.

One afternoon, he’s waiting longer than usual.  A young man – barely more than a boy, really – in front of him, takes his sweet time to place his order, along with some other complicated extras while chatting up a storm. For want of something to do, Mako strains to listen, foot tapping slightly in impatience, but the customer has dropped his voice to a whisper. Korra humors him, conversing along in hushed tones while scooping brownies into a box, before the boy exclaims loudly, “That would be _so_ cool. It’ll totally work! Korra, you’re my second favorite person right now.”

He then proceeds to awkwardly half-climb on the counter to hug Korra. Mako scowls at the display of unwarranted contact, which is honestly the last straw after this _man-boy’s_ complete disregard of other, paying customers and their time. _Does he not know what harassment is?_ Maybe he should have worn his uniform today.

_She’s only doing her job._

Korra only laughs in response, pats his shoulder, hands him what looks like a harness and a leash, and playfully shoo-es him off.

_Korra has a dog??_

Mako rolls his eyes internally at the boy’s excitement, which matches the dog’s. And when they finally leave, he catches Korra’s gaze, lifting his eyebrows conspiratorially at Korra’s amused exasperation.

_She’s only doing her job._

 

* * *

_And yet._

He catches her at the end of her break one day hanging up on her mobile phone, a look of pure annoyance on her face. It melts away when they lock eyes and she spares him a rueful smile. Though she is reticent to explain what is bothering her, he notices a twinkle in her eyes when he leaves her to her work. Which he likes to think is not unrelated to his efforts.

Or like the time when he got caught in the rain and she lent him her umbrella.

Or that time her touch lingered on his wrist, after she stopped him from feeding her dog a piece of his brownie. _Not something he could do again though_.

Or that weekend when Korra spent the entire afternoon experimenting with new recipes on him.

Or when he saw her eyes linger on the details of his uniform the first time she saw him wear it.

Or when she always manages a smile for him, even when Bolin tells him the day has been grueling and everyone is grumpy.

Every good cop knows how to piece clues together; a great cop, however, can extrapolate intent. And Mako knows _exactly_ where this leads, and he isn’t complaining.

He stays longer and longer every day, and prides himself in always making her laugh at least once per shift.

 

* * *

There’s a flurry of activity around the shop as he arrives just past closing time, the tinkling of the doorbell drowned by the scrape of chairs being placed on the tables. His eyes automatically scan the shop and spot Bolin with his full attention on the other barista. _Opal_ , if he remembers correctly. Korra was right, it definitely looks like a crush to him. Korra is on the phone a few feet away, her back turned away from the entrance.

“Hey, Bo! Ready to go?”

“Oh hey Mako! Sorry, we were making plans to go out tonight. Celebrating the end of exams. This is Opal, by the way.”

“Hey. Who’s coming?” Mako turns his attention back to Bolin, managing to keep his voice casual, his gaze flicking towards Korra, who turns at his question, hanging up before joining them.

Opal chimes in, “Korra, of course. She aced her exams.”

Korra rolls her eyes, but not before Mako catches her worrying the corner of her bottom lip with her teeth. “You don’t know that.”

Opal merely shushes her and continues, “I’m coming along too, even though I only did average.”

“You don’t know that.”

Bolin grins, “Well even if I failed, I’d still wanna celebrate that it’s over for at least three more months. So, can Asami come?”

“Sadly, no. Last paper at eight tomorrow.”

Mako smoothly intervenes, eyes on Korra, “Lucky for you, I can. I can pretend my exams are already over. I’ll even buy the first round.”

Korra makes a face, that only he can see. “We shouldn’t get drunk tonight.”

Bolin reacts in his usual manner, boisterous and outraged, and Opal chastises him.

“Don’t worry, I’ll buy you all the coffee you want in the morning.” Mako winks at Korra.

Korra’s sour look doesn’t abate. “Will I have to make it too?”

“Bolin can make it,” he smiles.

Bolin hits him in the arm. He doesn’t know if he heard him or just wants to get a move on, but he effectively breaks the moment before Korra can laugh.

 

* * *

“Hey Korra!” He greets her as he reaches the counter.

“Mako. Hi!” She frowns slightly, “Bolin’s not working today.”

“I know. But I need my fix. Someone got me addicted.” He smiles at her, right eyebrow raised.

“Ha. Be careful, this stuff will kill you.”

“But if I have a heart attack at the hands of your coffee, you’ll see that I get better right?  Nurse me back to health?”

It elicits a thin laugh, “Bolin can do it.”

“Nah, Nurse Korra has a better ring to it.”

“Am I a nurse just because I’m a woman?”

This startles a genuine, boisterous laugh out of him. He loves her _wit_ too.

 

* * *

“I can talk so easily to you, Korra.” He finally says after an hour of sharing his day, all of his day’s pent-up frustration from studies and training, as usual. It is a habit he has fallen into, but Korra never once complains. In fact, she even sometimes manages to coax a chuckle from him, not a light feat when he is in such a mood.

She looks up from her last order of the day, pauses, and says lightly. “Well, serving coffee and an ear is in the job description.”

He’s leaning on the counter, propped on his elbow, his hand close to her arm. He resists the urge to reach out. It is, after all, her place of work. Just like he resists the urge to unbutton his jacket or slacken his tie. It shows, after all, his pride in his work.

They lapse into a companionable silence while she prepares the order of the last late night customer. She’s taking her time, too.

Finally, she frowns and turns to him, “I need to close up, Mako.”

Without another word, she starts to wipe the tables in short and efficient strokes and he takes it as a cue to stay. When she starts lifting the chairs onto the table, he asks gallantly, “Do you want some help?”

“You’re not an employee. I can’t risk it.” She must sense his disappointment when he doesn’t answer, because she looks up from the mop and adds, “For safety and insurance purposes.”

“I could wait and walk you home.” _It’s the least he could do really, at this point._ “You know, I’ve seen some of the riff-raff hanging around here.”

“What?”

He’s had ample time at the shop to observe the clientele. Something most people never master.  “I’ve seen some... ‘questionable’ people loiter about the shop.”

She frowns. “I’ve no clue what you’re on about.” _Sweet, naive Korra._

And then he watches her face falls. “And I already have a ride.”

He waits anyway and follows her outside as she pulls the metal grille down.

When Korra has finally locked the shop, Mako doesn’t let an awkward silence fall between them. “Okay, see you tomorrow, Nurse Korra.”

She takes a second to reply. “See you, Mako.” He _really_ likes how she says his name.

He watches her walk away for a moment, his smile lingering as his eyes follow her lithe gait. This is the only reason he sees the bike that pulls up, and Korra getting on it. He frowns, trying to see who the rider is, but the street is too dark, and they drive off too quickly.

 

* * *

About a month after their first interaction, Korra changes to morning shifts. It’s the new semester, she explains when Mako finally catches on. Sadly, he is always busiest then, and so is the shop. In return, they have more time on weekends, which is perfect for him.

During his third consecutive Sunday spent in the shop, comfortable on the one sofa that accommodates his height, he finishes the first book he’s had the opportunity to read this year. And a lot of coffee. The only catch is that Korra is always manning -- or well, _womanning_ \-- the counter. Which means good coffee and great repartee when the crowd is thin.

“Korra, why don’t you take orders while I make the coffee for now?” Bolin offers, when the queue is reduced to only one woman in front of Mako.

Korra looks up and her characteristic crooked grin widens. Bolin must think he’s so sly. Mako can even see him wink at her.

“What can I get you today?”

“Whatever would get me through three blocks of thermo and two of design. Thanks, Korra.”

A chuckle, and a click of her tongue in sympathy. “I know just the thing. Bolin never gets it right.”

“Hey, I am offended. I am _the_ best barista in this shop.”

“Sorry, you make really cute latte art, but Korra does know exactly how strong I take it. And I definitely need that today,” The woman’s tone is apologetic.

Korra looks triumphantly at Bolin.“‘Tis settled. Why don’t you take care of your brother?” It’s Mako’s turn to chuckle. Dear, oblivious Korra doesn’t realize Bolin’s machinations, turning away to focus on fixing the customer’s drink.

 _She’s such a perfectionist_. He is, of course, disappointed, but her work ethic is admirable. Just as he likes it with his own work. Her attentiveness to the regulars and her memory of each of their peculiarities; it’s one of the many things he loves about her.


	2. Korra

She remembers first meeting him, and how he surprised her - his tall and serious opposing Bolin’s stocky and cheerful; those careful, watching eyes only adding to their dissimilarity.  It surprises her far less, when Mako mentions which academy he is enrolled in as a candidate.

Days later, she meets him again -- he is just as courteous, but Korra finds herself struggling to return the effort, especially when he starts presenting in uniform.

 

* * *

“To the end of exams!” Their glasses clash a bit too enthusiastically, and a good part of Bolin’s shot tips over the rim.

Mako adds, “And to Korra. For acing them.”

“Stop saying that.” A twinge of annoyance gnaws at her.

“Sorry, sorry.” His smile is wide, in that deliberate way of his. “I’m just really proud of you.” He puts his arm around her shoulder and squeezes in one of those manly side-hugs.

“Okay, that’s enough now.” She shrugs him off, and, incredibly, he laughs, before trudging on as if he has a right to this conversation. _Excuse me?_ He _is proud?_

He leans into her personal space to be heard over the background noise of the bar. “Poli sci, right? That has to have been challenging. Bolin told me you’re going for the UN student delegate?”

“Mhmm,” Korra answers noncommittally as her nostrils are assaulted by his cologne, and she has to resist the urge to lean further away. Much like his choice of fragrance, his friendliness falls just this side of overpowering, but she refuses to be put out of her celebratory mood. _He’s Bo’s brother_ , she reminds herself.

Bolin high-fives her, beaming. “Yeah, Korra. We’re really happy for you.”

Bolin’s open sincerity makes her own smile wider. Opal adds her own congratulations by pulling her arm to stand so she can give her a proper full-on hug that effectively and mercifully pulls her away from Mako’s side.

Between the goofy dances with Bolin and the bad karaoke with Opal, their celebration is more fun than she expected in Asami’s absence. After more hugs and dawdling on the sidewalk for a good half an hour, they finally part with Bolin helping an unsteady Opal into Korra’s car.

Opal stifles her yawn with the back of her hand, grinning at Korra. “So it seems Mako has a bit of a crush on you.”

“Oh God, don’t remind me. 16-year-old me would have loved it. But how about you and Bolin, huh? I thought one of you would have said something, now that exams are over.”

“I want to get to know him better outside of work first.”

“Isn’t that the point of dating?”

“I like him as a colleague and friend too, so I’m just being cautious.”

“Good point.”

They lapse into silence, the darkness inside the car broken by the street light. The streets are quiet, but Korra knows Asami’s favorite food stall will be open at that hour. Nearing the corner of a junction, Korra announces, “I have to just make a super quick stop, if that’s okay with you?”

Opal hums and nods sleepily against the headrest. Korra stops the car in front of the brightly lit shop, and Opal shifts her head away from the sudden glare of white fluorescent light. It only takes a couple of minutes before Korra hops back in. The scent of steaming food prompts Opal to open her eyes and glance at it, “Hungry?”

Korra smiles lightly, “Nah, it’s for Asami.”

 

* * *

“It doesn’t make any sense.” Asami closes her book with a huff and shoves it to one side, as she glares at the papers in front of her. Korra hums noncommittally, setting down a cup of tea in front of her.  

“I’ve redone the calculations again. I’ve accounted for viscosity, –” she checks off on her fingers, “–friction, and local acceleration, but clearly something’s missing.” She falls silent, her thumb clicking her pen repeatedly.  “Maybe I should take a break...” Without waiting for a response, she shakes her head, “No, I _have_ to get this done by today.”

She presses the heel of her hands to her eyebrow ridge for a moment. She takes a deep breath before reaching for another book. Korra stops her, placing her hand lightly on hers, “Asami.”

Asami sighs. “I know, I know. It’s just that I should have solved this problem by now.”

“Asami,” Korra repeats calmly, quietly. This time Asami meets her eyes, exhaling an almost-sigh, “I’m not very good at this, huh.”

“No one ever needs to get good at this.” They both know they are far off from her fluid dynamics problem; instead finally acknowledging what has truly been troubling Asami today. She stands up to come around to Asami’s side and place her hand on her back. “What do you want to do?”

“I didn’t even–” Asami wrings her hands, “...the shops will all be closed now.” She trails off.

“But I did.” Korra looks towards the take-out box containing the _anman_ she brought home this evening.

“You remembered what kind she likes–liked.” Asami falls silent, gaze soft. Korra takes her hand, squeezing slightly. “Do you want to visit her tonight?"

Asami looks down at their hands and traces figures on the back of Korra’s hand. Then, she exhales slowly and her shoulders relax. When she looks at Korra next, her eyes are calm and resolute.

 

* * *

“So, Nurse Korra, are four cups of your coffee today going to mark the day I will need medical attention?”

_There’s that stupid wink again. It wasn’t even funny the first time._

She presses her lips tight together, less an attempt at a smile and more to resist what is far more accurate, to resist saying something she might regret later on. It isn’t that difficult to remember to entertain, their respective uniforms a constant and effective reminder.

The moment he starts coming in daily, her suspicions are all but confirmed. Her heart sinks further when he goes from silent spectre to monopolizing conversationalist, and one constantly cloaked in a symbol of status at that. It doesn’t escape her notice either that Gommu and others of her favorite regulars have stopped coming in.

“How was your day? How was class?” His eyes follow her, even as he feigns disinterest.

“Oh you know, same old, same old.” That’s what has become her standard refrain, and it’s enough to prompt Mako to launch into his events of the day, mostly revolving around his training in the police academy or commenting about their favorite sports team, which of course just _had_ to be the same.

Naga leans on her heavily, almost tripping her a few times. She knows she can get away with it, as few customers remain. But it is effective against Mako’s attempts to approach her. And if she is honest, Korra relaxes minutely for it.

 

* * *

“How was your day?”

“Messy. Meelo and Ikki were let loose in the cafe today.” Korra quite literally unleashes Naga on Asami after removing her jacket. “Pema’s test brownies were a hit – as in Meelo hit me with one before it exploded on the floor.  And, of course, I had to fight Naga into her crate so she wouldn’t eat the remains. Then, Bolin held an impromptu latte art competition that I won, naturally–“ Korra trails off distractedly, taking her boots off, while Asami calms Naga down with well-placed pets.

“Korra?”

“Hmm?”

“Something on your mind? Your upcoming fellowship?” Korra looks up to find Asami – and Naga – looking at her quizzically, heads tilted slightly.

“It’s just, well.” She lets her breath out in a huff. “You know Mako, right?”

“Bolin’s brother who has a crush on you? Are you planning to elope?” Asami eyes her over the rim of her cup, her voice teasing. She immediately sobers when Korra’s creased eyebrows deepen.  

“That guy doesn’t know how to take a hint!” Korra whirls around to face her. “He’s starting to come around every day. Every. Day. At this point, I just might have to wear a neon sign around my neck.”

Korra practically falls on the couch. Asami puts her cup in the sink and goes to stand behind Korra, rubbing her shoulder and neck. She can feel the tension and exhaustion bunching up her muscles. Naga pads over and places her head on Korra’s lap.

“Is he making you uncomfortable?”

“It’s just–” she rubs the palm of her hands over her eyes, “it’s getting ridiculous. And tiring. I am tired of fending off his attention. I’ve tried everything I could think of. Bolin even told me he talked to him.”

Korra leans back into Asami’s hands, her own absently stroking Naga.

“Guess that didn’t work.”

When Korra’s telltale headache signs crop up, Asami switches her attention and starts massaging her temples, Korra humming appreciatively and relaxing further.

“Would you consider changing shifts with Opal? I’m sure Bolin would be more than thrilled.”

Korra even almost chuckle-snorts. “Yeah, wouldn’t he be so pleased at my misery. But no, it’s okay, it’s just harmless flirting, even if it’s annoying.”

“Just promise me you’ll listen to your gut if he starts making you uncomfortable.”

Asami brings her hands back to Korra’s nape, still massaging lightly. Korra only nods minutely and lets her head drop forward in response. Taking her time to brush Korra’s hair out of the way, Asami presses a soft kiss on her neck, just below her hairline, where the baby hairs curl. “This is where you want it, right?”

Korra lifts her head and tilts it back, searching Asami’s eyes. She realizes belatedly she’s talking about the tattoo she’s been considering receiving for a while now. “Mhmm, just below.”

Asami traces lines on Korra’s cheekbones, as she slowly blinks up at her, “Not here?”

“Mmh. Definitely. Later. This one is for myself.”

 

* * *

“He’s back.” _And in uniform, as always._

Bolin winces. “I’m so sorry, Korra. I’ll talk to him again.”

She grabs his shoulder. “It’s not your fault, Bo. You know that, right? I would never blame you for Mako’s behavior.”

His guileless face looks so forlorn, and he wrings his hands. “I still feel responsible.”

“I’ll be working in the back for now.” Korra injects as much enthusiasm as she can in her voice. “And I get dibs on all the leftover chocolate batter.”

“I won’t tell him. If he believes you’re not working today, I hope he’ll leave.” The optimism in his voice is belied by the frustration in his expression. _Is he trying to convince himself as much as me?_

“Thanks, Bo.”

“I’ll call Opal for reinforcements.” She watches him leave, shoulders uncharacteristically slumped.

 

* * *

“Who’s such a good girl today?” Naga scarfs down the treat Korra holds out, wagging her tail vigorously with pride that she sat completely still during her nail clipping. Korra tosses her another one before heading towards the sink. Wiping her wet hands on her jeans, she joins Asami on the couch. “You were saying something about that kitten? The one your friend found behind the workshop?”

Naga follows her and plops down at their feet.

“Jun said she’s going to nurse the poor thing back to health, and maybe adopt him if no one claims him,” Asami says, turning to show her a picture.

The comment makes Korra blanch and freeze in the middle of her automatic reaching-out to Asami.

“...do you have strong feelings against very cute kitten rescues?”

Korra rolls her eyes, thankful for the sarcasm, though she cannot relax into a smile. “Mako just has this stupid joke where he calls me his nurse.”

Asami grasps her hand, and quietly says, “He’s really getting to you, isn’t he?” A beat, a light squeeze, and then, “Didn’t you say Bolin talked to him?”

“Yeah,” Korra sighs long and deep, trying to dissipate her tension into Asami’s touch. “I didn’t realize he’d be this persistent.” She turns more fully towards Asami and folds her leg beneath her thighs, settling sideways against the back of the couch. “I need to do something about it.”

Asami rests her elbow on the backrest and reaches out to push Korra’s hair from her forehead. “I know you. I know you feel responsible but you need to take care of yourself too.”

Korra closes her eyes and leans into the touch, before resting her head against the couch. “It _is_ my responsibility.” Asami huffs but Korra opens her eyes before she can retort, “I _know_. I know it’s not my _fault_ , but it is my responsibility.”

Asami moves to mirror her position, silent, eyes searching for a moment.

“Are you going to bring it up with Pema?”

“I have to.”

Korra takes in a deep long breath, and rolls back to look at the ceiling, Asami’s fingers threading back her hair. “I mean, I don’t _want_ him to stop coming to the shop. He spends quite a bit, and tips well.” She adds with a sigh, closing her eyes again, “And he’s Bolin’s brother.”

Asami’s voice is very quiet when she argues, “Profit isn’t more important than a person’s wellbeing.”

“You don’t understand.” Korra tries to keep her voice warm and gentle, but possibly only achieves to sound tired.

Asami pauses for a second too long. Korra turns her head against the backrest, and opens her eyes to Asami’s intent gaze. “Then help me to.”

She turns back away, to avoid Asami’s gaze or to shift closer so her arm rests along Asami’s ribs. “I just wish there was a way to dispel his delusion without hurting anyone.”

“If confronting him would be harmful, what else can you do but ask for him to be banned?”

“I’m afraid the shop will pay for it, one way or another.”

Turning towards Asami again, Korra leans back to look at her, prompting her hand to come back to the side of her head, after brushing her hair behind her ear one more time.

“You have to see that sometimes –oftentimes– people don’t have that luxury. Sometimes you gotta just do what it takes to survive. Not only has Pema put her everything into this place, but more than a few people are reliant on it.”

Naga pops her head up just then, demanding head scratches and Asami indulges her. Korra joins in, and adds, “And I refuse to put her in that position.”

“I’m really not in a position to argue with that.”

Asami pauses for a moment before shaking her head with a smirk, “I could always run him over _by accident_ ,” eliciting a chuckle from Korra. Asami looks so brilliant in that moment, proud of her joke, and Korra leans forward and kisses her.

 

* * *

“Really, Korra, you shouldn’t be giving half your tips to the children. You earned that and I don’t want them getting spoiled.” Tenzin sighs, Jinora and Ikki squealing with delight as they leave the room. Korra shrugs, waving it off.

“Well, the tip jar is more than enough for all of us. At this rate, you could even expand the cafe. I can see it –an entire Naga-section instead of just a corner,” she adds, only half joking.

“I’m glad our customers are able to show their appreciation. We know you all put your hearts into it,” he beams.

Waiting a beat after that praise, she says, “About that. There’s something I need to talk to Pema and you about.”

“Is something wrong?”

“It’s just that lately, a customer’s behavior has been bothering me.”

Tenzin frowns at this, fingers stroking his beard in that pensive way of his and Korra waits while he processes this piece of information, “is he being inappropriate?”

“Yeah, that’s why I’m talking to you,” she reacts. “I mean–” she wavers, “he isn’t exactly physically harassing me. But he _is_ making me uncomfortable.”

“I’m sorry, Korra, but I can’t do anything about that.”

“Can’t do anything about what?” Pema interjects as she enters, looking like she is one frustration away from committing a mariticide, and holding a sleeping Rohan. Korra automatically reaches to take Rohan from her, and earns a grateful look from Pema. “By the way, Tenzin, I just called the plumber. And Katara called. Also, remember that we have a meeting this afternoon.”

She turns towards Korra, “Korra?”

“Korra feels uncomfortable around a customer,” Tenzin explains before Korra can even raise her head from nuzzling Rohan’s hair.

Pema is silent for a while, pensively watching Korra. “Korra?”

“He’s not doing anything, really.”

“This is troubling you, he _is_ doing something.”

“I don’t know how to explain, it’s an accumulation of little things. Like he acts too familiar with only me. Like we have some sort of rapport. He even calls me ‘cutesy’ names, and he offers to walk me home on a regular basis.”

Pema glances at Tenzin, before looking back at Korra. “What do you want to do?”

“I was thinking maybe I could change shifts?”

“Korra," Tenzin placates, "you need to understand that it comes with the territory. You know we are a neighborly café and we always strive to make our customers feel at home.” Pema glares at him. “But I’ll see what I can do,” he adds with a shrug.

 

* * *

Thursdays are slow days, and Korra enjoys the solitude, sitting in companionable silence with Naga napping in her usual corner, and Pema tinkering with some or other thing in the shop. Or, well, she _used to_.

Korra is bent down, restocking the shelves below the counter when she hears the dreaded bell of the doorway. Her heart rate spikes as she recognizes the heavy footsteps.

“Hello?” She groans inwardly at the familiar voice. “Where’s my nurse?”

A stream of expletives run through her head twice, and she briefly wonders if he’ll go away if she stays crouched down like this.

_This is pathetic._

She hears Pema clearing her throat, and her low but firm words to Mako. “I’m sorry, the hospital is on the other side of the river.”

“Ah no, Korra understands,” Mako chuckles. “It’s our private joke.”

_Fuck. You._

She waits a beat, takes a deep breath and stands, hands fisting at her side. But before she can say anything, Pema intercedes, “Korra, can you check up on the girls and the cookies? I’ll take care of this customer.”

_She could kiss Pema._

Walking in the back, she can hear him address Pema, “I just want to say what a great shop Tenzin has here.“

_Fuck. Him._

 

* * *

“Did I mention how happy I am that you’re on morning shifts again?”

“Mhmm, I do enjoy making you feel half-human again.” When Asami just rolls her eyes, she adds, as though in afterthought, “And of course seeing you every morning too, love of my life and moon of my stars.”

Asami relents, chuckling at the hyperbolic term of endearment, but her face turns serious again.

“I just wish it was under different circumstances.”

“I refuse to have this dampen my good humor at seeing you.”

Korra adds an extra muffin to the order, Asami’s favorite. However, her smile freezes when the shop door opens. Sweat prickles her lower back at the view of his crisp jacket proudly buttoned all the way.

“Speak of the devil.”

Asami tenses, her back still towards the entrance. Korra can almost see the wheels turning inside her head.

“Asami…”

Asami’s eyes are pleading with her to let her fix this.

“Let me handle him, please?” Korra begs.

Asami nods, sighing, “Fine, I’ll hold off on the mowing-down for now,” before leaving.

 

* * *

“I know I’ve asked you to work in the kitchen a lot lately,” Pema says after retrieving Korra from the register for the third time this week. “I really appreciate your flexibility.”

Korra, though thankful for the reprieve, wishes that she didn’t need such accommodations.  But as the day proves–

“Where’s Korra?”

She hears that unwelcome voice floating towards her from the front of the shop. Hands caked with flour, Korra looks up to see Pema watching her. By mute agreement, they both pause and strain to listen to Ikki’s or Jinora’s response.

“In the back. May I take your order?” Ikki pipes up excitedly.

“Oh. Can I see her?”

In the kind of disinterested, bored voice typical of a teenager, Jinora replies, “She’s working. What would you like to drink?”

“Uh. Tell her I said hi.”

“K, sure thing. You’re holding up the line. Do you want to order something?”

“Uhm….yeah, sure, the usual, then.”

“What’s your usual?”

“Well, Korra knows.”

“Well, Korra is busy. So, what do you want?”

Korra can hear the huff in Mako’s voice when he answers. “Fine. Black coffee, then.”

“One black coffee, coming up!” _Bless Jinora and her sickly sweet fake cheer._ “To go, I take it?”

Korra doesn’t catch Mako’s reply this time but she knows Jinora’s louder-than-necessary order summary is for her sake. “For here, then! Why don’t you go grab a seat and I’ll be right with you.”

 

* * *

“Changing shifts again?”

“I’m willing to take the irregular shifts that no one wants.”

Tenzin sighs, “I wish there was something else we could do, but I’m quite sure Mako is not dangerous. He was very respectful when we crossed paths. He strikes me as an upstanding, responsible, fine young man. Did you know he is training to be a police officer? I’m sure it’s just a harmless misunderstanding.”

Korra catches Pema’s eyeroll and feels her squeeze her shoulder lightly. “I’ll arrange it, starting next week.”

 

* * *

Now, with such an unpredictable shift schedule, it’s harder for Mako to keep track of Korra’s few, well-earned breaks. On Korra’s _luckiest_ days, he misses them all together.

Today is _not_ a lucky day.

“Hey, Korra! You going on lunch break?”

Korra sighs. “Yes, Mako.” She is _not_ in the mood to deal with him and his stupid pressed pants today. She refuses to be intimidated by this display.

Mako puts his hand on her back to lead her to the picnic table the staff uses on breaks. “Want some company?”

Resisting the urge to shiver in revulsion, she sidesteps as far as she can, letting Naga push between them. “No thanks.”

He sits across from her, as if he hadn’t heard her. She decides if he’s going to ignore her refusal, indifference is her best defense. While he automatically goes off about his damn academy, she meticulously avoids looking in his direction, unpacks her lunch slowly, and focuses on petting Naga’s head on her lap. Asami should be here any minute now.

“Are you okay?” Genuine concern seeps into his voice.

_Funny how your concern doesn’t extend to actually listening to what I’m saying._

Still, she has no choice but to keep saying no. She squares her shoulders and looks him dead in the eye. “Hey, Mako? I really need to be alone right now.”

Korra groans internally, wishing that Mako hadn’t managed to stumble upon her only break today. But, fortunately, there is someone who _always_ knows when her lunch breaks are.

“Hey, Korra!” _Oh, thank God._

“Hi! Asami!” Her smile is as much relief as pleasure to see her girlfriend.

Mako, on the other hand… His eyes widen, then narrow. His tone, though, is almost jovial, entirely too indulgent. “Oh, hi. Asami, right? Wanna join us for lunch?”

_The nerve of this guy!_

Asami stares at Mako for a little too long, before stradling the bench next to Korra, knee pressing against her thigh, hand rubbing her lower back in knowing comfort out of Mako’s line of sight. Korra automatically pushes her lunch box towards her in offering. No one says anything for a moment as Asami picks at Korra’s wild redcurrant berries, both ignoring Mako long enough that he leaves red and glaring.

“Damn, that felt good,” Korra whispers against Asami’s temple. “Is that accident idea still on the table?”

“We do have a new bike to crash-test,” Asami giggles, and then breaks down laughing. “God, did you see his face?” Korra joins in freely, almost relaxing for a few minutes.

 

* * *

"Here you are!”

Korra jumps. _How did she not hear his military step._

“Mako! What are you doing back here?”

“Looking for you, of course. I feel like I haven’t seen you in days! Every time I come in, you seem to be working in the back.”

“Yeah I’ve been helping with the baking more,” she trails off, and then inhales deep. “No, you know what? I _have_ been avoiding _someone_.”

“Is it that Asami woman? I don’t like the way she looks at you.”

Korra is too stunned to say anything for a moment – which is good, because she is really tempted to flaunt the fact that Asami is her freaking _girlfriend_. But one look at his face of disgust reminds her – his persistence in no way entitles him to know that, or _anything_ , about her life.

So, instead, she sighs. “No, Mako. It’s not Asami. I like Asami.”

Mako huffs and crosses his arms. “I feel like we’ve been arguing a lot lately.”

_What the hell does he think is happening between them??_

Korra clenches her fists. “What the--”

“Korra!” Opal calls out, before her head pokes out in the doorway. “Oh, Mako. Customers are not allowed back there. You are violating so many safety and health codes right now.” She turns back to Korra without waiting for a reply, “Korra, are you done with the restocking? There’s a rush of customers I need your help with.”

 

* * *

“Hey! Korra!” _Dammit._

Mako jogs to meet her by the back door she’s taken to leaving from whenever she can.

“Have you been avoiding me? If this is about the other day… Look, I’m not gonna apologize for being worried about you.”

Korra tries to discreetly maneuver so he isn’t standing between her and the street.

“I had to take the trash out before leaving. Which I’m doing now. Leaving.”

“Hey! Wait a minute. I think we should talk ab–”

He is cut off by Naga growling from right behind Korra. He looks down at her like she is an exasperating annoyance. “You should train your dog better, Korra. A firm hand is best with big dogs like that. Look at police do–”

This time, Korra cuts him off. “You. Do. _Not._ Get to tell me how to treat my dog. And you do not get to take poor abused creatures like police dogs as examples of good training.”

“Hey, now–”

“No! I’m leaving.”

She turns to leave without checking if Naga is following. Admittedly, her presence and her growling makes it feel safer to turn her back on him.

“Come on!” Mako yells, Naga answering with a bark. “Korra!” He shouts again, inciting another bark. “Call off your dog!” His order is almost drowned by Naga’s angry barking.

Korra waits until she has unlocked and mounted her bicycle before calling Naga.

 

* * *

“What about a restraining order?” Opal asks one day.

“I really don’t want my contact information to be on police record. And I doubt a restraining order request would be of any use against a soon-to-be cop, you know.”

“Not that police aren’t famous for banding together, either.” Asami chimes in bitterly. “And he technically hasn’t broken any law. He’ll just have to tweak what really happened to fit his narrative and get everyone’s sympathy.”

Opal remains silent for a moment, brow crinkling, before adding, forcibly cheerful, “At least you’re leaving soon, right?”

 

* * *

“You quit!?” Bolin’s voice is a little frantic when he confronts her.

“Yeah, Bo, sorry. There’s still a lot to do in preparation for my trip, you know?”

Korra can be a good liar – diplomatic – when the need arises. But she knows she doesn’t really want to be dishonest about this with Bolin, even when she doesn’t want to add to his remorse.

“This has nothing to do with Mako?” He asks half dubiously.

When she remains silent, his face falls. “I see.”

Korra can see the guilt creasing his eyebrow and staying his hands. So she pours all the reassurance and gratitude she can in the bear hug she coaxes him into.

“We can still be friends, right?” He asks in her shoulder.

“Of course, Bo.”


	3. Bolin

“I’m going go shoot some hoops this evening… Wanna join us?”

“And watch Tahno whoop your ass? No thanks.”

“Hey. We’ve been winning ever since my friend from work joined. I’ve never seen anyone handle a ball so well...and just–” Bolin mimics dodging and weaving around his brother, dribbling an invisible ball. “Like a leaf in the wind.”

“Work…” Mako’s eyebrows smoothen. “Oh, you mean from your new coffee shop gig. Well, maybe some people have way too much free time, y’know? Maybe that’s how he got so good.”

“No, I think _she_ was like a star player at her old school. But the point is she’s just amazing all around. You really should come down to the shop sometime, maybe on one of your breaks.”

“You know I want to but I’ve been really busy these days.“

“C’mon. Even the great, busy Mako can have a coffee from time to time.”

“I can’t today, I have to finish reading up on background investigation for tomorrow, Bo. But I’ll definitely try sometime this week.” Mako adds, but Bolin knows when he’s fighting a losing battle.

 

* * *

“You’re going out with your work friend _again_? Don’t you two see each other enough during the day?”

“Yeah, but I’m gonna miss her so much when she leaves.”

“Why is she leaving?” Mako flicks absentmindedly through his newspaper.

“Oh, she’s going to the UN this summer.”

“It’s just a vacation, Bolin. She’ll be back.”

“No no, she’s doing an internship in Geneva. She was nominated for it by THE Katara.”

“Katara as in Aang’s wife?” He sees he has Mako’s full attention now.

“Katara as in the badass indigenous women’s rights activist, yeah!” Bolin enthusiastically continues. “Their families are really good friends. Apparently Katara even used to babysit Korra. She says she reminds her of Aang sometimes.”

“So, that friend of yours, why would she work at a coffee shop then?” Mako’s voice is far too casual, and that’s how Bolin knows that Mako _really_ wants to know.

“Well, the shop is technically owned by Katara’s son. And she watches his kids sometimes too. Or used to, mostly, now, I guess. So it all just kind of works out.”

“Wait. You work for Aang’s son?”

“Yeah, they try to keep it on the low, because their kids are there all the time. So _don’t_ say anything to anyone.”

“Of course not. I’m not you.”

A beat passes and Mako asks again, again in that far-too-casual tone of his. “What’s your friend’s name again?”

“Why don’t you drop by the shop and find out? Anyway gotta run.” With a wink, Bolin closes the front door.

 

* * *

“How do I look?” Bolin turns his head this way and that, adjusting his shirt-collar for the umpteenth time, and tries to smooth that stubborn part of his hair in vain. “Hello, Opal Beifong.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he spots Mako through the mirror, head snapping up to attention. “Beifong? As in police chief Beifong? Wow, good going, bro.”

Bolin shrugs. “I’ve no clue, maybe. But Opal is incredible.” He sighs dreamily, and Mako rolls his eyes.

Mako lifts his eyebrow. “You sometimes surprise me, Bo.”

“Why?”

“Dating a Beifong. Rubbing shoulders with well-connected people.”

Bolin shrugs; their connections don’t say anything of value about them to him, but he knows they do to Mako. “I guess I’m just lucky.”

 

* * *

“Ooh, someone’s got it bad…” They’re playing Street Fighter and Mako keeps offhandedly bringing Korra up.

“Actually, I think I’ll ask her out.”

Bolin pauses the game and turns to Mako. “Mako, no.”

Sighing, Mako puts his controller down. “Why not? I think she’s into me.”

Bolin places his hand on his brother’s forehead in mock seriousness before Mako swats it away.

“Nope, no fever. But definitely hallucinating. The doc recommends going off the caffeine in the meantime.”

“Whatever. You’re just annoyed she isn’t into _you_.” Without waiting for Bolin to pick his controller up, Mako restarts the game.

 

* * *

 “Hey Asami. Hi Bo.” Bolin only hears her coming in when Korra greets them as the door to the apartment clicks closed.

“Korra! You’re back! Help me!” He attempts to wiggle into an upright position, the effort breaking his concentration so very slightly, and it costs him dearly as Asami’s Yoshi edges past his Princess Peach to the finish line. The celebratory tune starts as he glances at Asami slouching beside him, her expression as serene as ever with only the smallest hint of satisfaction. It widens into a true smile when Korra pecks her on the temple from behind.

Asami tilts her head further up towards Korra, “Bolin came by to drop Naga off, and I invited him to stay for dinner.”

“You didn’t mention that I challenged you to _one_ game,” he holds his index up in emphasis, “–and you’ve been steadily destroying me over the last hour.” With a fake pout, he adds, “My reign is now over.” Bolin makes an exaggerated bow, waving the controller still in his hand, “But I humbly concede defeat to such a worthy opponent.”

Korra only laughs affectionately at the both of them, ruffling Naga’s head, before asking, “Come on, Bo, wanna help me make dinner?”

Asami puts their controllers away before Bolin can even manage to emerge from the folds of the couch. Instead, he sheepishly follows Korra to the kitchen counter, where she directs him to take out, clean, and cut the vegetables they will need.

Asami joins them just as Korra is balancing different spices in her arms in her path. She kisses her cheek before sidestepping towards the bluetooth speaker on the kitchen table and choosing something to play.

“Hey, samba! I love it!” Bolin starts dancing to the tune, while randomly opening drawers in search of a peeler. That’s when Bolin spots it. Asami has opened a cupboard and he can see it peeking out from behind the stack of pots, “What! you’ve got an air fryer!? Ooh ooh, can we use it?”

He sees Korra and Asami sharing a look, and then a whole silent conversation with their faces doing some...interesting things. Finally, Asami turns a warm smile towards him, “Sure, Bolin.”

“All right!” Bolin rocks up on his toes, in an attempt to contain his excitement. “So, okay. We have sweet potatoes, so, fries obviously.” He looks down at the vegetables he pulled out of the fridge. “Oh but, what about the broccoli? Can we really fry that?”

“Yep,” Korra answers, as she’s cutting the chicken thighs, “we’ve done it before.”

“Awesome. And then, Fried! Chicken! Legs!”

“With Korra’s random secret spice mix.” Asami bumps her hip lightly against Korra’s, as she slices the sweet potatoes.

Korra bumps her back, “My spice mix is _not_ random at all. I swear, just because I won’t tell you the secret...”

Asami flings a potato nub at Korra, which falls a foot short. “Well, you just came up with it the day we had all those half-full bottles left from your aunt Kya.”

Korra points at Asami with a jar of turmeric, “I’ll have you know–” She turns to Bolin, “it’s a variation on our family recipe.”

Bolin watches her deftly mixing as she talks, taking a pinch of this and a sprinkle of that, too fast for him to see which spices in what proportion. ”Korra, that _does_ look random. How do you even measure anything?”

“Experience,” Korra replies smugly.

Asami rolls her eyes, and says in a disbelieving tone.“Why can’t it just be exact amounts?” Bolin has the feeling that it’s not the first time she’s presented that argument.

“That’s why you’re the one who bakes to perfection, and I’m the cook in this relationship.”

“You know I’m only here for Naga.”

They hear a commotion from the doorway and a mass of white fluff comes bounding towards Asami. “Naga! No! You know you’re not allowed in the kitchen when we’re cooking.”

Asami wipes her hands, grabs the bag of doggy treats – Naga’s eyes eagerly following – and walks to the couch. Korra turns to Bolin, “If you like the seasoning, I could show you next time.”

“Really? That’d be awesome!”

“Hey, Bolin?” Asami calls out from the couch where she’s sprawled under Naga’s weight. He turns to see her half hanging off of the back of the couch in her attempt to face them. “If you’re done with the veggies, do you want to help me choose a movie to watch?”

Bolin turns towards Korra with his eyebrows raised.

“Go ahead, I just need to clean up a bit.”

He hurries to wash his hands and join Asami and Naga, who are already flicking through the sections. “What genre are you in the mood for?”

 

* * *

“So, Korra has a boyfriend, huh?”

A sense of unease creeps up over him as Bolin gives the pan a final toss and carefully divides the omelette into two exact portions, “Mako, stop it.”

Mako holds his hands up. “Wow, bro, I’m just trying to get to know your friend.”

Bolin takes a deep breath. _Maybe he’s right, Mako can be thoughtful like that._ “Okay, sorry, no she doesn’t.” In an effort to close the topic, he starts shovelling his eggs even faster than usual.

Mako uncharacteristically takes his time cutting his omelette up, “But you said she wasn’t interested in me.”

 _Or not…_ He still hasn’t taken a bite when Bolin is almost done. So, he puts down his fork and meets his eye. “She isn’t.”

“Okay, okay. I believe you.”

Only then does Mako starts eating. Like the subject’s closed. _Good. Now everything is on the table._ Bolin really thinks this time Mako will hear him.

 

* * *

“He’s here again.”

 _Oh no._ Bolin can see he’s even wearing his uniform.

“I’m so sorry, Korra. I’ll talk to him again.”

Bolin barely registers the shoulder squeeze, knowing she is just trying to make him feel better. _Which is messed up._ “It’s not your fault, Bo. You know that, right? I don’t blame you for Mako’s behavior.”

“I still feel responsible.” How does he get him to stop? The whole situation makes his stomach churn. _How can Mako be so thoughtless?_

“I’ll work in the back for now.” Korra’s voice is much too high-pitched for it to be authentic when she cheerfully adds, “And I get all the leftover batter.”

“I won’t tell him. If he thinks you’re not working today, he’ll hopefully leave.” He was never a very good liar, but for Korra’s sake, he has to try his best.

“Thanks, Bo.” He knows she knows that too.

He tries to smile reassuringly, but he can feel his failure painted all over his pained mien.

 

* * *

“So, Korra’s really invested in her studies, huh?” Bolin is about to turn in for the night when Mako asks.

“What?” Bolin feels that same alarm that slithers down his spine whenever Mako mentions Korra now.

Mako is nonchalant, not looking at him. “If she doesn’t have a boyfriend, but she’s not interested in me.” Bolin marvels at how he manages to keep the question out of his voice; more a disbelieving statement.

 _You know what?_ Bolin is tired. He’s had a long day, and his brother is refusing to listen. “Sure.”

He closes his bedroom’s door before Mako continues a conversation that is both repetitive and annoying.

 

* * *

Bolin’s playing Night in the Woods, one of the dream sequences, when Mako throws himself sulkily onto the couch.

He finishes this part before pausing, and asking, “What’s wrong, Mako?”

Mako folds his arm across his chest. Bolin thinks he would pout if it was deemed manly. “I don’t know why Korra is mad at me.”

Bolin refrains from sighing. _Not this again_. “What do you mean?”

“She’s always busy and barely talks to me nowadays.”

Bolin wonders if he is mistaking his acrimony for condescension. Towards him or towards Korra is another question.

“Uhm...maybe that’s a hint she doesn’t want to talk to you?”

Mako guffaws. “You’re so funny, Bo. Nah, I’m pretty sure something is bothering her. She should know she can trust me, but I think she’s just too cautious sometimes.”

 

* * *

“Hey Bo, is Korra sick? I haven’t seen her around lately.” Mako doesn’t even let him close the front door before asking.

 _Uh oh, here we go._ Bolin takes his time taking off his shoes and his jacket before answering. “No, she’s fine. Just, you know, busy with school.”

Mako faces him, not paying attention to the stove he’s standing at. “Oh yeah? How’s her UN thing going?”

Bolin crosses to the cupboard and pulls out plates for the two of them. Still not looking at Mako, he answers, “Um, I’m not sure.” Korra’s told him quite a bit –she’s so excited about the opportunity, but he’s not that oblivious.

“....okay. Has she changed shifts?” Mako turns off the stove and brings the pan to the table. He thinks he’s so good at extracting information since he's read that one book about interrogation techniques.

Bolin sets glasses and cutlery down, avoiding Mako’s gaze. Not that it will really hide his dishonesty. “I don’t really know.”

He takes his seat, Mako remaining where he is, “How can you not know?”

Bolin looks up, capitalizing on his anger to look Mako in the eyes. “I just don’t, okay?”

Mako scoffs and smirks. “You’ve never learned how to lie properly, Bolin. Why don’t you wanna tell me?”

“Look, Mako, don’t.”

“Don’t what? I can’t believe this, Bolin. I’m your brother. What’s wrong with you?”

“Just back off, she’s not interested in you.”

“What are you saying?”

“Nothing, just back off, okay?”

Mako looks at him, almost pensively for a moment. Uncharacteristically, none of them has started eating yet, and Bolin gets the sudden urge to protect his plate from his own brother.

“Alright, Bo, whatever you want.”

Bolin sighs in relief. He’d been dreading this convo with Mako, but of course he’d just been overthinking. Mako is reasonable. He’s always had it so hard, especially when they were young, so he’s just brash sometimes. _But his heart is in the right place._ And he does listen to him, when it really matters.

They’re brothers, after all.

 

* * *

“I thought you were interested in Opal.” _Dammit, he didn’t listen._

“What?”

“Not Korra.”

 _Wha-–nevermind._ “I’m not interested in Korra.”

“I don’t know, Bo. You’ve been spending an awful lot of time with her lately. You’re always hanging out together after your shifts. I don’t even get to see her anymore.  Why do you want to undermine our relationship?”

Bolin almost laughs out loud, but manages to swallow his snort. _What relationship?_

“What? What relationship?”

“Hey, if you are. I’ll back off, okay. Just say the word. But you gotta leave some for the rest of us,” his laugh sounds flat, even to Bolin’s ear, and his smile doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Mako, just stop. Please.”

 

* * *

“What’s up with Korra? Has she changed shifts again?”

Bolin minimizes the rental website he’s been browsing, but does not turn towards Mako yet. He hesitates. _Would Korra want Mako to know?_ But he needs Mako to understand.

“Korra quit.”

“Isn’t her UN thing in a few weeks still?”

“It’s not because of that.”

“Then why?”

“Because you’re a creep.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“You’ve been harassing her for months.” Bolin knows he sounds more tired than disappointed, but if he’s being honest, he should have seen it coming.

“You are not making any sense, right now.”

Oh, now Mako’s making him angry. “You wouldn’t leave her alone, despite her insistent and constant refusal.” Mako scoffs at that. _How dare he?_ “You even started to wear your uniform _cons.tant.ly._ “

“Everyone has their ups and downs. We were doing fine. And what has anything got to do with my uniform?” Bolin isn’t sure if Mako is madder at the harassment or the uniform comment.

“What? You were never a couple. You were at best acquaintances because I didn’t confront you when I should have.”

“What are you talking about?” Mako laughs, but it comes out forced. “You’re so oblivious to everything around you. Ever since we were kids. Korra has been into me since day one, if you’ve paid any attention at all.” 

Bolin shakes his head vigorously, not quite believing what he is hearing. For someone who is training to be deductive, he cannot believe how far off the mark his brother is.

“I can’t believe that woman. Turning my own brother against me. I have the decency to go slow for her and be a good guy, and now I’m the bad guy?”

“What the hell, Mako? She was doing her job!”

“She flirted with me!”

“She has a partner, for God’s sake!”

“Well, then, I don’t know if her ‘partner’ was unsatisfying or what, but I– You know what? I’m sure she’s saying all that because that boyfriend of hers learned about it and she’s trying to cover it up.”

 _Oh, wouldn’t Mako like that._ His charm so irresistible that women in committed relationships couldn’t refrain from cheating.

“No, believe me, her partner knew from the beginning that you were being creepy.”

“I can’t believe you’d take her word against mine. Even if I hypothetically misunderstood her situation –and honestly, _she_ is the one who never mentioned a boyfriend; she definitely lead me on.”

“No, she was being a decent, polite human being.” Of course, Bolin realized too late that Korra wouldn’t have let this slide, if not for him. She’d have kicked Mako’s door down if she’d needed to, and told him in no uncertain terms that she wanted to have nothing to do with him. Or borrowed Asami’s bike to mow him down. Okay, maybe not. But something, at least.

All that restraint, because of him, Bolin. Because he was her friend. Bolin could have kicked himself for being such an idiot. And now, because of his passivity, confronting Mako is not going to cut it.

 

* * *

“What are you doing?”

“I’m moving out.” Bolin has packed all his stuff, and put it in front of the door outside their apartment, to wait for Opal’s car.

“Why?”

“Because, Mako, I can’t live with you anymore.”

“What? You can’t be serious. Is it because of this Korra situation? She flirted with me!”

“She had to quit her job to get away from you, and even then you couldn’t get that she wasn’t interested.”

“I can’t believe you would side with her. She’s the one who lead me on!”

“Just–” Bolin sighs, “I just need some distance right now, okay?”

“Bo, come on. You’re my brother. You’d choose a girl over us?”

Bolin almost relents then. He stares at his brother as though seeing – _really_ seeing – him for the first time in a long time. This is his _brother_ , the boy who kept them alive when they were homeless. The boy who gave up his food for him. And delayed his own ambitions so his little brother could finish high school to get into a decent college.

Sure, he’s done questionable things in the past, but always for their survival, for Bolin’s protection. This is – or used to be – the person he always looked up to, for his strength and perseverance.

_And yet, here they are._

It’s harder when he looks into Mako’s eyes. Because he still sees the same person reflected back.

His survival instincts are still strong; even joining the very system that discarded them. The same survival instinct that enabled him to turn his back completely on his own past. They never had real friends, their childhood life could not allow that; but Bolin could never have given up the people they knew from their past the way Mako did, so easily, so carelessly. A person who did not take ‘no’ for an answer; born out of necessity and hardship at first before hardening into a way of living.

How do you reconcile these things? How do you pretend everything is still normal?

As though the realization he now holds exists in a vacuum, separate and absolute. As though it does not now taint everything it touches.

Including their relationship.

His self-respect. His respect for his brother. His love for him even.

Bolin cannot find the right words to express it all to Mako, so he says, ”I can’t just stand back when you hurt somebody else.” He’s shaking with restraint, the heat seeping in his voice involuntarily. “I can’t pretend this never happened, and still keep living with you, and be okay with myself.” At this point, his voice is sharper with anger than he’s ever allowed himself to be with his brother. “Can’t you understand that?”

And just like that, his rage crashes against the enormity of his decisions. Shoulders slumping, nothing left to add, he closes the door gently behind him.

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to [contronym](https://archiveofourown.org/users/contronym/) who sporadically came out of their cave of responsibilities to grace us with their cheerleading and genius input by way of cats.


End file.
